those forlorn days are over
by Silver Medals
Summary: Finnick/Annie from one night at twilight to one year later, when there's a lonely finish to something that was never lonely in the first place. / Happy New Year's! / Secret Santa exchange fic, for Racheltwo.
1. Chapter 1

**twilight**

Annie sat alone on the park bench with a book in her arms. It was twilight; the time when the air still lingered with the warmth of the day but the stars twinkle with their delicate grace. The only sounds were the faint chirps of nightingales, singing to the silent wind.

The city felt empty. Not desolate; not silent. The city just felt empty, as if there were no one there but the city lights and towering skyscrapers. Somehow, some way, there were real people in there.

The night grew darker and the stars in turn grew brighter. It was only when the clock struck ten that Annie put her book down. She stood up. She gazed into the distance, at the silhouettes of the nightingales. A shadow crept out of the darkness. "Annie?" the shadow asked. Annie gasped.

The shadow stepped forward and swept Annie off her feet. "Finnick!" she exclaimed in a whisper. Finnick kissed her on the cheek. Annie gazed up into his shining eyes, her hair falling over his shoulder. Finnick set Annie down on the bench, where he sat next to her. "You're late," Annie said with a smile.

"I know I'm late, shut up!" Finnick joked back. They both laughed. Annie reached for his hand. She threw her head to the side, a smile emblazoned across her face. They told jokes and they laughed late into the night.

Annie shook her head, laughing. "Finnick," she whispered, a hint of a chuckle in her tone. She wrapped an arm around his neck and turned to him. The corners of her mouth ever-so-slowly turned up into a smile.

"You don't know how lovely you are, Annie." Annie's gaze drifted to the ground. Finnick placed two fingers under her chin and brought her chin up until she was looking into his sea-green eyes. Annie turned her head and stared into the stars. They seemed to dance through the sky. Annie wished for one thing**—** _to dance through the sky. or just to dance._

"I'm not lovely," Annie whispered. "Not at all." She slipped her hand into Finnick's. Finnick looked at her with such a look that any sane person would chuckle at. Annie wasn't sane; she wasn't mad; she wasn't "special"; she wasn't crazy. She was only one thing and she would only be one thing: Annie Cresta.

**wish **

"Finnick," Annie said, sing-songing. "I want one**— **no, two things." Her eyes flickered in the moonlight. Finnick twisted a lock of her hair affectionately. Putting her head on Finnick's shoulder, Annie waited for a reply.

"What do you want, my darling sugar cube?" Finnick replied as if on cue, using the nickname that Annie might have hated the most. "What could you want that your lovely lover hasn't given you already?" Finnick boasted to himself.

"Finnick," Annie said, staring up at the full moon. "_I want to dance." _Her voice came out in whispers; she said it so quietly that Finnick could only hear a sliver of her words. Finnick took her hand and led her down a flight of wooden stairs to a small field. Annie's hands rested on his shoulder; his on her hips, and they did all but dance. They tripped over each others' feet and laughed as they fell sprawling into the grass. At the end they only lay down on the grass, stargazing. They didn't care about anything anymore, only that Finnick was on the left and Annie on the right and there were two of them, bound by their entwined hands.

They lay on the field for a moment longer, still pointing at the stars when Finnick asked, "Annie, what was the second thing you wanted?" He plucked a purple honeysuckle and twisted it in a lock of her dark hair. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, waiting for a reply.

Annie's reply was simple. "I want a white veil and a ring on my finger." Finnick's gaze averted from the stars. He instead looked at Annie, who still looked at the 'dancing' stars.

Their night ended with the whispers of "Will you marry me, my darling sugar cube" and "Of course, my handsome tridentarian".


	2. Chapter 2

**star-crossed**

Annie's dress was long and lacy. Her spirits were bright. She thought she could want nothing more than a night full of dancing, music, and Finnick. The autumn air was warm and her dress matched it; strapless and loose. Her hair was long and natural, a single braid fashioned into a crown, which pinned a purple honeysuckle to her head.

Her feet were bare and her smile spanning ear to ear. Simple music began to play, a quiet symphony of sorts drafting through the screen the willow trees created.

Annie took quick steps down the grassy aisle, heading towards Finnick, who stood wearing simple clothes at the altar. Rose petals were already scattered across the lawn. Her bouquet consisted of a single poppy which she held in her left hand. She held it in such a way as to drop it at the end of the aisle. The music gradually came to a stop and Annie gradually ran up the two steps. She found herself a foot away from Finnick, who had a bright smile on his face. Their eyes met for a moment before Finnick averted his gaze and stared at the crowd.

It might have been the first time a young woman didn't scream upon meeting his eyes; of course, it was his marriage.

A man read something aloud from a book. "Do you, Annie Cresta, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" A moment of silence met the area. Annie took her time to ponder the question teasingly. She knew the answer, of course. The few people seated on the grass looked on, their eyes wide in wonderment.

"I do," Annie finally replied. The smile was clear on her face.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Their hands met, fingers became enlaced. They slowly leaned in and, after a moment, their lips met. Short bursts of applause came from the few watchers. Annie felt her soul practically melting. The moment she faced was the only time she had ever cried tears of joy. They embraced each other. Tears streamed down Annie's face.

When it was all over, they did what they loved most. _They danced. _Hand in hand, they stepped through the grassy patch. They tripped and laughed. They didn't look beautiful, they didn't look elegant. They didn't seem to be dancing at all. But to them, nothing could be more of a dance. They danced into the night, and everyone watched. They laughed with them. Johanna gave them her best wishes, as did Peeta.

But no one meant it more than Katniss did. Katniss seemed to be one of the only people who genuinely cared about the two star-crossed lovers.

* * *

**keep holding on**

Finnick's hand was securely latched onto Annie's for the first eight hours. "I'm too afraid of losing you," he whispered one night.

"I'm only afraid of what happens after the revolution," she retorted. It was their first disagreement. "Think about it. When the war is over, what will happen? If the Capitol wins, I don't know what to think. If the rebels win, then... I couldn't live with what we've done." Annie rolled over and fell back to sleep. Finnick's head stung with the feeling of rejection; something he'd never felt before.

In the cold night of their room in District Thirteen, everything seemed black-and-white. There was a single honeysuckle (the purple kind) in a glass of water on a provisional shelf. The room was too dark to see.

It didn't seem black-and-white; it seemed a single shade of brown dirt. There was no steady rock of the ocean to lull them to sleep like back in District Four. In fact, the only sounds were the faint cries of mockingjays. They were cries that pierced your ears, so full of pain that they broke you. You could tell that it wasn't real pain, but it was breaking nonetheless.

"Annie?"

"Hmm?"

"Just keep holding onto my hand and I promise, no one can ever hurt you, never ever."

Finnick was only partially right.

* * *

**aftermath **

It was the second time. The second time she saw someone die all because of her, the second time she cried without end.

"I guess Finnick didn't hold my hand long enough." Annie couldn't be fixed anymore. There was nothing left of her bright face, nothing remaining of what she thought was her whole life. "He said he would never leave me."

"Well, he lied." No one seemed to lend a comforting hand. Johanna sharpened a hatchet blade, barely listening to Annie. "Annie, _darling, _if you want someone to keep a promise, you should believe them when they make the promise in the first place."

"But-" Annie stopped protesting. "I told him everything. My whims, my greatest fears, my wonders... I told him that I was scared of the rebellion, scared of everything that would come."

"The rebellion is over, Annie. " No one said another word.

_If it's over, then why does it play back in my mind, as vivid as it did when it wasn't over? _Annie had no one to tell her secrets to, no one to ask questions to in the dark. _No one to dance with. _That was the worst thing. No one would be there to dance through the night with Annie.

The flower in the glass had wilted. A shriveled-up petal floated in the water. She didn't have the will to replace it.

There was another second time. The second time her 'district partner' had been decapitated by some sort of mutated monster. Ivory by the District Two boy, whose brute was anything but natural, and Finnick by a horrible, mutated, man-eating lizard. It had been too late for help once his calls reached the surface, everyone said. No one cradled Annie's fragile, broken heart.

* * *

**remembrance and forgetting**

Annie remembered dancing through the night at her wedding, she remembered the vibrant colors of the poppy and the honeysuckles. She tried to remember everything, but it _hurt _to remember it. Finnick was gone, and with it, her will to live was gone.

Soon enough, she forgot everything. At twenty-three, there was nothing more she wanted than to die. The only thing containing her was her growing belly and what would be the only thing left of Finnick.

* * *

**a lonely finish to a race that wasn't lonely**

"It's a boy!" Annie crowed the happiest thing she had said in eight months.

"What will you name him?" Enobaria asked.

Annie replied with her simple answer. "Calder. Calder Odair." Calder was a little boy with a bright smile and striking red hair. He loved to laugh and run around and talk. But most of all, he carried a family gene. He loved, above all, to dance. Annie adored her son. It was the one thing she loved that the Capitol hadn't slaughtered. "You had a father once," she liked to tell him. "But he went...somewhere, and he can't come back."

There was still an emptiness that she couldn't satisfy. No matter how she loved Calder, there was no one to call her his sugar cube and to tease about his tridents.

There was no twilight, no twinkling stars anymore. There were no warm days like the days in the autumn that they married. Annie saw only toxic rains, cold days, and bleak skies. There had been more bombs, making District Thirteen even more desolate. It seemed like war had torn the country, but this time beyond repair.

As Calder grew older, it grew more apparent that he wanted to be just like the father he never had. It also grew more apparent that Annie couldn't live like this. She wanted her handsome tridentarian, she wanted someone to call her his sugar cube.

Calder was two months old. Annie and Finnick had been married for a year. Annie was still thinking, _this isn't fair. Finnick can't be gone. He's not gone forever. It isn't possible._

Annie remembered every second she had spent with him now. She replayed them over and over again. Brooding in a cold, dark corner, Annie didn't feel like her bright self anymore. She was nothing more than forlorn.

* * *

For Racheltwo; currently supernovas.

Prompts: You don't know how lovely you are; rose pedals; city lights; silhouettes. I covered most of them in the first chapter and tried not to lay them on too heavy.

Hope you enjoy this wreck of a fic (2115 words without A/Ns) and happy New Year!


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